


The Witch and the Werewolf

by alicat54c



Category: Original Work, mythology and folklore - Fandom
Genre: A cat being a cat, Babbling, NaNoWriMo 2016, Teen Wolf, Werewolves, Witchcraft, ie a totall asshole, in that this started as an idea as a teen wolf fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:25:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8720641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicat54c/pseuds/alicat54c
Summary: Wendy did not anticipate owning a cat to be the most difficult thing in her life at the moment. Then one of her roomate's interns gets stolen by faeries.





	1. Chapter 1

…  
…Ch1  
… Just a Cat  
…

Pathetic syntax rarely corresponds with the emotions of even the most dedicated meteorologists; however the moods of a witch generally conjure more drama from the universe. That said, she really should have guessed that tonight would end in tragedy just by looking at the weather forecast.

Overhead, the stratus of the day bunched and rumbled into heavy rainclouds, ready to pour forth the kind of dark stormy night one would usually expect a woman with her current activity to have as a backdrop, whether she was a witch or not.

Traditionally there would be cauldrons bubbling ominously- more likely than not just with whatever stew the coven of the evening decided on for dinner- and bonfires, complete with chanting, varying states of undress, and wild screams into the night.

Well, she had the wild screaming, in any case. 

Cardboard matches were thrown to the ground with a tooth clenched scream, beside a white gum rapper folded into the stick figure likeness of some kind of four limbed creature, with a bold name scrawled over its face. A few more raindrops eked their way out of the heavens, dampening the items further to paper pulp.

She seethed through her teeth, fists clenched on her knees. “I can’t even curse one goddamn cat caller today, can I?”

The drizzle picked up in tempo to a rain, causing the dumpster in the back alley to smell less of waste and more of refuse. 

The woman took a breath, with more intentional purpose than the last fevered lung full, and pushed herself up from the ground by the toes of her heels, tugging her skirt back into place.

“Right. I’m calm, I’m cool, I’ll curse him later.” Pulling her hoodie up against the impending downpour, she stepped out of the alleyway. As she walked, the clouds rumbled, shaking loose enough water to overflow the trash filled gutters. The woman wrinkled her nose, sodden arms crossed over her chest.

“You know, if I had an aptitude for technology, none of this would be happening,” she commented to the dead screen of her phone. “But you just had to go and not charge this morning, didn’t you.”

The phone did not reply, however, a high reedy wail cut through her ear like a badly tuned violin.

“What now?” she growled, stuffing the phone in her skirt pocket.

Stomping through the rivers sleuthing off the cement, she cast about for the source of the sound. Another cry drew her to a storm drain. Leaves blown down from the ornamental trees piled up at one end, diverting a portion of the deluge from the drain back out onto the street. Another cry, heart wrenchingly weaker than the one before sounded from just inside the flooding drain.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” The woman swore, soaking her knees as she crouched to find the source of the sound.

A tiny dark lump shivered, clinging to the grate against the flood. It cried again, fangs perfectly white in its pink mouth, pointed ears canted back in distress.

“Fuuuuuuck!” She snarled. “You better be just a fucking cat, because I swear to god, if this is some kind of quid pro quo character test, I will end you.”

The kitten didn’t reply.

A careful hand fumbled closer, trying to grip at the furry body, without dislodging it enough to wash away. Fingers curled around scruff. The woman winced apologetically, before pulling. The cries turned from mournful to pained, and the feline released its death grip to twist around and bite at the hand which held it, claws joining in once she pulled the kitten from the storm drain.

“Stop it you little beast, I’m just trying to help you!” She snapped, arm and its prize finally free of danger. She shifted the kitten into her arms, where it dug into the sodden sweatshirt, needle claws doing their best to sew through to her skin. With a grimace, she tucked the shivering body close, zipping up the jacket to create a cocoon free from the rain, keeping one arm folded underneath the animal’s rump to keep it still.

Squinting through the rain, the woman headed towards a blue and red neon sign declaring the establishment ‘OPEN’. Her foot caught on the landing as she shouldered her way through the door. A sleepy eyed teen un-slumped behind the register, caffeine fueled gaze searching for misdemeanor.

The woman walked to the counter, glancing at the first thing inside of the display case. “Can I get a bagel and coffee? Also if you have a phone charger or a towel, I would be really appreciative.”

“Sure,” the kid said ringing her up. “Want it toasted?”

“That’s fine.”

The barista handed her a dish towel while she waited for her order, and pointed her to an outlet. She moped off her face, and took the steaming cup and food when he hands it to her. 

“Bad night?” He asked, as she tried to juggle her order while keeping one arm clutched around the squirming alien at her middle.

“You could say that.”

She claimed a small booth to herself before letting the kitten escape her clutches. it yowled loudly enough to alert the wait staff, who were interested only in that their early evening curiosity of the squirming stomach monster was answered.

It darted into the dark corner of the table, hunched underneath the booth’s seat and the wall. She made to reach for it again, but it yowled and hissed. “God fine,” she hissed back, nursing her clawed hand, and left it.

An hour, several more cups of coffee, and a number of appreciated tea towels later, the woman scowled down at the kitten, who, after a bowl of cream from the amused barista, deigned it safe to emerge from its hidey hole. The cat blinked luminous green eyes up at her, from where it crawled over and around her legs under the table, stretching to cover her knees in damp fur.

Her mouth twisted. “Fuck. You’re cute.”

It butted its head against her shin, pulling so hard the skin of its face stretched, showing fangs.

“Jesus fuckin christ, you better just be a damn cat, or I swear to god-“

“Mrrew?” Large green eyes blinked uncomprehendingly up at her.

She sighed. “Fucking beast.” Catching the tabby body around the middle as it made another infinite pass around her legs, she lifted the kitten to her chest. Needle claws stuck through her blouse in protest of being manhandled, and she swore again.

“I’m trying to help you, you little monster!”

Detaching the claws from her skin, she zipped the kitten back into her hoodie. It wriggled, causing her elbows to whack into the table as she juggled all the new limbs inside her clothing, until its head popped out just above the zipper. The cat surveyed the landscape from its new vantage point, sneezed, and ducked back into the humid warmth.

“You done now?” She asked plaintively, tucking her arms across her belly to hold the squirming weight above the floor. As she walked, thunderous purrs rumbled through her chest.

The barista waved a farewell as she left.  
…

“It’s just a cat. I don’t know what you expect me to do with just a cat.”

The witch rolled her eyes so hard a psychic could hear them rattle against the back of her skull. “You’re a vet. It’s a cat. I thought math was a requirement for a medical degree.”

“I’m not a vet.” The doctor hissed, forked tongue snaking through his lips irritably.

“That’s not what it says on your door, Naga Jamal.”

The end of his tapered waist writhed, twisting down to his scaly tail. “And if you had brought me a hell hound or a harpy, then I could help you, Witch Wendy. But it’s not. It’s a cat. Just a cat.”

The ‘just a cat’ chewed happily on Wendy’s hand, drawing pink droplets of blood. She tapped its nose. “Stop it beast.”

It meowed plaintively, before returning to its pastime. She began scratching its ears, and the cat began to purr in still contentment. The witch looked back at the doctor, who’s raised scaly brows indicated his bemused envy of the cat’s ability to manipulate this particular woman.

“Look,” Wendy said, voice breaking over a command trying to be reasonable. “Can’t you just give it a flea bath or something? I can’t take it home covered in disease. Don’t want to perpetuate stereotypes.”

“Sure, if it was a werewolf. But if I dip that thing-“ he jerked a claw at the kitten, who had rolled onto its back for tummy skritches- “it would dissolve. My practice caters to the magical only. I can’t treat things that don’t at least have some magical tolerance, otherwise they tend to leave my care in the same shape they came in. Now, if the cat in question was your familiar-“

“Nope, just a cat.”

“-Then I could help you. But I suppose not then.”

She groaned, lungs huffing out more air than strictly necessary for the sound. “Come on Jamal, give me something!”

“All right.” He slithered to the metal cabinets and opened a drawer with a high squeak. Riffling around, he pulled out a business card, which he handed to her. “This is for an actual veterinary clinic, that treats actual non-magical animals. It’s run by a very nice druid-“

“Aw fuck, not a druid, come on!”

The doctor’s tongue hissed between his lengthening fangs, silencing her protests. “That is all I am giving you, Witch Wendy, and unless you plan to leave that cat as my lunch, I suggest you take it with you when you leave!”

Wendy stuck her tongue out at him, but took the card anyway, finger pointing emphatically. “See if I ever help you through a skin shed again!”

He raised a brow, unamused. “See if I ever give you spell components from my clients ever again.”

The finger retracted. “Touché.” 

Picking up the kitten, she swept to the door, sneakers squeaking. “I’ll take my ‘just a cat’ and leave then.”  
…

With her phone charged, it wasn’t difficult to navigate her way to the clinic printed on the card. Her cab driver seemed more bemused than annoyed that a woman dressed as she was was going to the vet instead of the numerous bars and clubs further in town, but he didn’t comment. Which was lucky for him, given her current mood.

Wendy squeaked through the clinic’s door, kitten still snoozing in her hoodie, just as another crash of thunder rumbled over head. The interior was tiny, with just enough space for a welcome desk and a line of waiting chairs. The assistant at the desk handed her a clipboard to fill out as a new client, and asked her to sit wait for the doctor.

At the end of the chair line, a wizened woman, with more wrinkles than the sharpei at her side, nodded pleasantly, a bright blue scarf around her neck. Wendy nodded back, eyes flicking to the dog for the time it took to calculate how many bandages the occupant of her sweatshirt would cause her, and sat on the far end of the cue.

Skimming over the usual round of contact information, Wendy hesitated for a heart beat over the blank space asking for ‘PET’S NAME:’ . She looked at the kitten, scribbled, and handed the clipboard back to the tiredly polite assistant. A few minutes her name was called.

“Wendy?” The assistant looked over the top of the desk. “Uh, Wendy and, uh.” He peered at the clipboard again. “Just a cat? The doctor will see you now.”

Wendy got up from the plastic chair, eyeing the placid dog with its little old lady as she went. The kitten mewled from the depths of her hoodie, scratching through her blouse at being jostled.

Inside the exam room, a tallish man in a white coat started as she opened the door.

“Witch.” He said, blandly startled.

“Druid!” She mocked back, closing the door behind her.

The kitten took the initiative to leap from her embrace, through her collar, and onto the steel exam table in the room’s center.

The druid’s eyes softened, and he held out a hand, which the whorish kitten immediately rubbed against, purring.

“I hope you don’t plan to do anything unnatural to this poor creature, otherwise, I’ll be forced to act.”

Wendy scoffed. “I dunno, you planning to burn anyone alive because of trees tonight?”

His lips remained an unamused flatline. The witch crossed her arms.

“I just need the cat de-wormed and parasite free, with all its shots and whatever.” She flexed her chewed on hand. “Preferably let’s start with rabies.”

The corners of his mouth quirked, and he scratched behind the kittens ears. “You’ll want to get this little one fixed too, otherwise he’ll start fighting with anything that breathes in a few months.”

Wendy snorted. “You want to chop his balls off, and ask /me/ if I plan anything cruel and unnatural?”

“Yes, well, I’m a doctor.”

“And I’m a doctorate, big deal!”

“Are you really? In what?”

Wendy ran a hand over her face. “Look, can we just deal with the cat? I don’t have energy for this tonight.”

The vet fixed her with a flat business stare. “I can’t leave this animal with you if I think you might hurt it.”

“Because of druid vows?”

“And I’m a vet.”

She growled another hissing sigh. “I swear I don’t plan to chop it up for stew or sell it to a demon for a bobble and kicks. Good enough?”

The corners of his mouth pressed down harder, though remained still. “I guess it will have to be.” He turned back to the kitten. “Did you just buy him, or get him from a friend?”

She sat down in a plastic chair in the exam room’s corner, flexing her ankles while the kitten was coaxed and prodded to move its limbs to the doctor’s satisfaction. “No, I found it in the gutter about-“ she checked her phone screen- “Four hours ago?”

“Oh, so you’re here for a drop off? There’s a pound not too far from here you can take him to as well-“

“No, I’m keeping it.”

The druid glanced at her contemplatively, fingers dancing over the purring kitten’s vertebra. “You can leave him overnight at the clinic, and I’ll have him de bugged tomorrow. Then we can schedule getting him spayed.”

“How do I know you’re not just trying to steal my cat?”

His lips quirked marginally away from a flat line. “I suppose we’ll both have to trust each other.”

She nodded. “All right.”

“Good.” He picked up the kitten, which burrowed into his neck, rubbing itself fiercely under his chin. “Miles at the desk will help you set up a followup and pay. And you might also want this-“ With his free hand he pulled a pamphlet from the plastic container screwed to the wall, and held it out.

Wendy read the heading ‘FIRST TIME CAT OWNERS’, before taking it. 

“That should get your house ready, moving removing poisonous plants and things to buy.”

“Right.” She flicked open the cover to see a plastically smiling woman holding a bright orange striped lap tiger. With a grimace, she stuffed it into her sodden sweatshirt pocket.  
…


	2. Chapter 2

…  
…Ch2  
…Meet the Puppies  
…

Wendy jingled the keys in her hand, careful to avoid the trigger on her pepper spray key chain as she sorted through which one was for the front door of her apartment. Sliding the correct one into the lock, she thumped above the frame when the mechanisms stuck, until finally it clicked open. The wood sighed even before she turned the knob, and Wendy made a note to call the landlord to fix it. With a light push, the door swung open, revealing a patchily decorated entry way, which diminished into murky shadows.

She kicked off her soaking shoes, not bothering with the light switch.

In the darkness something stirred, a shadow against the orange light oozing through the back windows.

Wendy pulled at her socks, grimacing as the fabric stuck soggily to her skin.

Two pinpricks of light reflected from the streetlamp outside shuttered as the shadow drew closer, gaining definition as a distinctly erect figure.

The witch straightened up, feet bare, and the figure lunged into the puddle of light created by the open door.

“What are you doing here!” It snarled eyes red, teeth bared. “Intruder!”

Wendy rolled her eyes, shutting the door behind her. “Brittany, it’s me.” She clawed at the wall. With a click, the lights flickered on, revealing a contrite woman with long brown hair done up in a high pony tail.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” She sneezed once before wrapping Wendy into a near crushing hug. She pulled away after a thorough squeeze, rubbing at her puffy eyes, as she sniffed through congestion. “I can’t smell a thing like this. Makes it hard to recognize-“ she waived her hand to encompass, possibly, the entire world.

“It’s fine.” Wendy detached herself from the other’s grip. “Do I need to take you to the vet?”

“You know Doctor Jamal hates it when you call him that.” She sniffed again. “I should be fine. I just ate a bottle of something, and Josh got me nose spray at home.”

“There’s a joke in here about pets getting into your medicine cabinet, but I’m not going to make it.”

“Oh, ha ha.” Brittany rolled her streaming eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t expect you back tonight. Did your date not go well?”

Wendy shucked off her damp sweatshirt, crossing the open space to the kitchen, where she tossed it into the sink. “You could say that. Anyway,” she turned to her trailing companion. “Why are you here? Wasn’t there, like, at a family thing?”

“Oh, we got done early!” Brittany chirped. “I even managed to get my Ma off my back about the whole building intra pack alliances by setting my brother up with a nice wolf from Canada.”

“That’s nice.”

“I just came to pick up the last of my stuff.” She indicated a dusty box marked with ‘KITCHEN’ on the top and sides hiding beside the sofa.

“And now you’re officially living in sin with your man.” Wendy slowly clapped, a smile threatening to cross her face. “How does it feel?”

Brittany’s grin was playfully full of teeth. “Well, I don’t have to put a sock on the door anymore for you. So I think everyone’s much happier.”

Wendy chuckled. “Definitely.”

“Anyway!” Brittany clapped her hands. “I wanted to pop by tonight so I wouldn’t have to wake you up in the morning, but I guess it’s moot since you didn’t stay out as long as you thought you would.” Her eyes flashed innocently. “Do I need to kill someone for you?”

“No, it’s fine.” The witch waved her off. “So, other than the pimping of your brother, how was the trip? You said something happened?”

Brittany grinned, canines and eye teeth sharper than was comforting. “There was a bit of a disagreement with a new guy in town, but I made an example of them, so it’s all good! I even got some interns out of it! How was your week?”

Wendy toyed with a fork taken from the drying rack by the sink. “Got a pet.”

“Oh really?” Brittany’s ecstasy caused her pony tail to wag back and forth across her shoulders. “You don’t smell like cat.”

“Well, you’re sick.” Wendy rolled her eyes. “I gotta go pick it up from the vet tomorrow, like an actual real animal vet, and get it food and stuff.” She fished around in her hoodie puddle and pulled the crushed ‘CAT OWNERS’ pamphlet from its pocket.

“Aw! It will good for you not to be alone in the house all by yourself all the time!”

“I mean, I guess.” The witch yawned. “Anyway, I should probably go take a shower. I smell like a storm drain.”

“Really?” Brittany shuffled closer and snuffed nosily, before giving up the battle against congestion.

“Just trust me on this.”

“Right-o!” The brunette crossed to the abandoned box, turning just as Wendy began to climb the narrow staircase to the second floor.

“Hey is it all right if I stop by the shop tomorrow?” She practically vibrated with restrained glee, pony tail wagging mercilessly behind her ears. “I got something to show you!”

“Sure. I won’t be there in the after noon though.”

“See you then!” Brittany barked, before bounding out the door, and locking it behind her with a slam.  
…

The buildings on either side of the paper shop sported loud ‘GOING OUT OF BUSINESS SALE’ and ‘FOR LEASE’ signs respectively, despite the seemingly steady traffic of pedestrians walking along from the square office buildings to the restaurants down the block.

Inside the shop could be seen shelves squished along every wall, stuffed to the brim with books bound with everything from leather to bamboo, all empty. Stationary in plastic sheathings were propped up on the middle shelves at eye level, showing off lavish boarders, while a poster board of post cards haphazardly hung behind the register. More cards with greetings and farewells and funny jokes and sad pictures rested on a spinning rack just inside the door, and crammed into the furthest back corner, gold leafed envelopes rested beside their monogramed fellows. An obligatory display of pens scattered across the shelves like particularly lavish garnishes.

Behind the register against the back wall, Wendy read a book.

Her statuesque stupor twitched at a particular passage, and fumbled about on the counter, before resigning herself to opening the drawer below the register, revealing a collection of cap end chewed markers and pens. Several pencil splinters threatened to prick her fingers as she searched, eventually emerging with a tooth marker highlighter. Just as she was about to mark her book, the cow bell over the door rang.

She looked up, practiced greeting on the tip of her tongue. Instead of the usual species of shopper which frequented the paper shop, such as business persons looking for fancy pens, star crossed lovers in search of perfumes stationary, and the occasional harried gift shopper, two dark haired boys scampered in.

“Hello. How can I help you?” The word held marginally more sincerely sinister curiosity than usual.

The boys froze, gangly limbs coltishly banging into each other, as they crowded together, as if they were trying acquire more mass by association.

Wendy raised her eyebrows.

The two teens shifted uncomfortably.

“Wendy, be nice.” Brittany’s voice floated through the paper shop, as the cow bell rang again. “They’re mine.” 

She adjusted her hold on the box in her arms, which rattled ominously. A bit of rubber tubing escaped the folded lid, waiving around blearily, like a confused snake. “Remember that spat I told you about before? Some idiot bit this poor puppy, and now I’m taking care of him!” She rubbed her hand over the less pale one’s head.

The witch took a deep breath. “Do his parents know that he’s been abducted?”

“Oh, ha ha.” The brunette flashed her teeth. “Technically they’re interning with me when I’m doing my tree study. I just keep them around more for free labor. Speaking of-“

She dumps the box into the less pale one’s arms. “Go bring this around back to the car!”

The kid blinked, the freckles at the corners of his eyes crinkling. His gaze darted between the two women, brows drawing closer together in his confusion. “Um.”

Wendy stared at him flatly, like a panther eyeing a baby doe.

“Oh right, introductions!” Brittany threw her arms around the boys, pulling both close under her embrace. “This one’s Lenny,” she bobbed her hear to the right where the less pale boy tried to waive around the box, “And this one’s Fael!” She tilted her head to the left, where the pale freckled one smiled brightly.

“Hello,” Wendy said, putting down her book.

Brittany beamed. “This is Wendy! We used to be roommates, and she lets me park the truck in her employee parking space behind the shop.” She nudged the teens towards the door behind the counter. “Which is where you both should go put the box!”

“Um.” This time the freckled one, Fael, spoke, hands raised in half thought out gesticulation.

Wendy opened the door behind her invitingly, revealing a dumpster full of cardboard and a parking lot.

Looking once more at Brittany’s ever present grin, the boys manhandled the box together through the door, which swung shut behind them.

Wendy waited till the sounds of shuffling footsteps faded, before looking at her friend. “Congratulations, it’s a boy?”

Brittany barked out a laugh, striding over to lean one armed on the counter. “Aren’t they just adorable?”

The witch wobbled her shoulders. “Are they both wolves?”

“Naw, Fael’s Lenny’s friend.”

Wendy nodded sagely. “Ah the old, ‘my best friend’s a now werewolf’ introduction to the supernatural world. Gotta love the classics.” Her gaze refocused away from humor. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No.” Brittany growled. “Some idiot just undermined my authority and bit someone in my territory! It wasn’t even the outskirts of the city, it was, like, in the park six blocks from my house!” 

Her hand inched to the glittery fountain pen on the counter.

Quick as a viper, Wendy slapped her wrist with a firm, “No.”

Brittany drew back, eyes wide with betrayal as she nursed her injury, before she looked down and realized just what her limbs had been doing without her conscious consent. She winced. “Sorry.”

Wendy rolled her eyes. “I just need at least one good pen for the register.”

She grinned wolfishly. “Anyway. I dealt with the idiot and sniffed out Lenny a few days later. Then Fael showed up too.” Her hands wiggle jazzily. “And now I have two new interns!”

“Did you give his parents the talk?”

Brittany shrugged. “Tee Be Dee. I wanna get the boys settled, and then we have to do a background check on his family, then Ma will let me know.”

Wendy hummed, just as the door to the pocking lot shuddered, as if someone was trying to push it open from the other side. Brittany rolled her eyes, and fished out her phone. Her expression brightened. 

“Move over, I gotta take this.” Nudging her friend aside, the werewolf opened the back door. She dodged around the two boys, who had clearly been leaning on said door and now regretted that decision, and stepped into the parking lot, phone against her ear. “Hey Luv Nug!” She crowed, just as the door clicked shut.

“Who’s she talking to?” Lenny asked, straightening up from his stumble.

“It’s not polite to listen in on people talking on the phone,” Fael chided, with the kind of sing song repetition one developed for adages which are often shouted at them.

“Right.” Wendy propped her elbow back on the counter. The teens eyes her warily, and moved out of the crowded space behind the register to linger by the display of greeting cards. “So, how are you two liking working with Brittany?”

“It’s fine.” Lenny murmured, arms wrapped around his middle.

“She’s giving us volunteer work credit on her study of water running down trees in the parks around the city.” Fael chimed in, spinning the display. Several cards fluttered to the floor.

“Sounds pretty boring.”

Fael shook his head so hard his ears could have flapped up a whirrl wind. “Nuh uh, it’s really cool!”

She turned her attention to the other teen. “And how about you Lenny?”

“I said it was fine.”

Wendy hummed, the nail of her ring finger picking at her thumb. “And how did you two meet Brittany?”

She had to press a palm over her mouth to hide the smirk when the duo stiffened.

“Around-“ “We’re neighbors-“ They said at the same time. Rabbit wide glances were shared, before Lenny spoke, words careful. “Brittany’s my neighbor, and we met in the park-“

“She was doing field measurements on the trees there!” His friend added.

“Really?” Wendy said in mock wonder. “I thought she was only working on trees in the forest!”

Another preparing to flee glance, before Lenny fumbled out, “Well, I mean, she was-“

Wendy’ facade cracked, and she snorted. “Sorry, sorry!” She took a steadying breath, still repressing a smile. “It’s ok. I know.”

“Really?” Lenny’s relief was outmatched by Fael’s enthusiasm. 

“What are you?” The freckled teen asked, eyes alight. He pulled back. “I mean, if you don’t mind. Is that rude? I’m sorry if that was rude!”

“It’s fine.” She considered him. “I’m a witch.”

“REALLY?” The teenager looked in danger of exploding, judging from all the energy vibrating off of him in waves.

Lenny rubbed his ear. “Dude, volume.”

“Right, sorry-“ he babbled, crowding up to the counter. “Are you really a witch? Have you ever turned someone into a frog? Can you do magic? Can you show me?”

Wendy tilted her head slightly. The boy’s mouth snapped shut. A slow smile slit itself across her face. “I don’t think you could afford me.”

A brilliant crimson flush splashed up over the teen’s neck and face, splattering over his freckled cheeks.

Wendy’s attention alighted next on the other boy. “And you’re a werewolf.”

A quick jerk of his neck. “Not for that long. Brittany said I was bitten by and eastern werewolf?” Lenny’s tone was the kind of bland nonchalant hesitance only teenagers could perfect.

Wendy winced despite herself. “That sucks kid. You have a safe place to go for the full moon?”

He wobbled his shoulders. “Brittany said she would take me somewhere.”

Recognizing the early resentment of rebellion, Wendy fixed the boy with a stare. “You let her take care of you. This stuff’s dangerous, especially for you, because you can hurt people really badly. And even if you don’t mean to, apologies don’t stop the bleeding.”

The boy ducked his head down, chin nearly touching his chin, and he stared deferentially sideways at the floor. He frowned, and shook away his instinctual reaction, eyes darting back to his friend, who had dove to cover the awkward silence with a splash of chatter.

“You can’t just say that every werewolf goes crazy on full moons, that’s so speciesist!” Fael declared, jaw set.

Wendy stared at him, lids half lowered below her rising eyebrows. 

The boy barreled on, making waves with his words, heedless of the unfathomable depths and potential of teeth just under his toes. 

His eyes were manically bright with sincerity, arms pinwheeling with his words. “I was the one who figures out Lenny’s lycanthropy, and I was doing lots of research, only everything online was conflicting, and it was really annoying until Brittany explained how there are, like, two breeds of werewolves- the New and Old world ones- and they have really different temperaments, and-“

Wendy’s eyebrows climbed higher as she watched the miracle of lung capacity babbling before her. When the boy paused for a gasping breath, she held up a hand.

“Stop.”

Immediately his jaw clicked shut, expression eager.

The witch took a deliberate breath, just to watch him squirm during the intermittent second of silence before she spoke. “I wasn’t being spiciest. You should ask Brittany to explain more of that stuff to you. I don’t want to misappropriate werewolf culture.”

“They have culture?” He practically vibrated in place. At Wendy’s glare, he hunched his shoulders. “Well I mean, of course they would, everyone from somewhere has culture- and I’m just going to stop talking now.”

“Oh no, I was enjoying you trying to fit both feet in your mouth.”

His shoulders practically reached his ears.

Lenny sniggered, brown eyes flashing up to meet Wendy’s for a heartbeat of shared amusement. The witch winked. He flushed and looked back down, like an abashed puppy.

Wendy resolved to stop hanging around werewolves, before she too started picking strays up off the street. Well, more strays, anyway, she thought, mind straying to her rain ruined skirt ensemble from the night before.

A sharp knock sounded from the back door, which Wendy pushed herself off the the counter to hip check open. 

“Yes?”

Brittany grinned toothily at her. “Hey! Thanks for waiting. Josh wanted to ask about the new couch.” She looked in to where the boys had returned to reading idly humorous greeting cards. “You guys have a good talk?”

“Yup!” Fael crowed, cramming his fistful of cardboard back onto the rack, and bounding over to Brittany’s side.

Lenny followed at a more sedate pace, after carefully straightening the rumpled cards, and returning the fallen ones to the rack.

Brittany pulled both boys into neck snapping hugs one after the other. “Good!” 

Wendy felt the corners of her mouth curl at the wriggling bear hug.

“Anyway!” Brittany said, releasing her prey. “We gotta go head to the forest and set up.” Brittany began herding the teens through the back door. “See you Wendy!”

“Bye,” the witch said, returning to her book.  
…


	3. Chapter 3

…  
…Ch3  
… Vet Again, and Mortimer  
…

The witch glared at the array of pet paraphernalia, daring the correct choice to either leap off the shelf into her arms, or watch the rest burst into flames.

An unknowing soul passing by her aisle doubled back with a practiced smile. “Can I help you miss?”

Wendy turned so sharply, the sales assistant flinched back, as if cut.

“Yes, I just got a cat and need to make sure it doesn’t die when I take it home. What do I need?”

The assistant’s grin became a touch more genuine at the thought of a sale. “Do you know how old the cat is? Because you might want to start with some kitten chow. Maybe a few toys, and definitely a scratching post if you want to save your furniture.”

The witch became rather wild around the eyes, as the assistant lilted on about cat beds and fancy water dishes with moving fountains. Her ring finger picked at her thumb nail, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Right.” She said, during the brief pause when a breath was being taken. “I think I got it, thank you.”

The assistant waved cheerily, as the woman grabbed the first bag of chow she saw off the bottom shelf, and an industrial sized bag of litter. One aisle over saw her glaring at cat hutches, before she grabbed the least offensive design to throw in her cart as well.

By the time she got to the register, the witch seriously considered whether the little sewer monster was worth the dent in her bank account.

No more free animals, she chanted, as the price rang into three digits. There’s always a cost.

She was just about to roll her cart out the door, when she caught sight of a machine by the exit which carved name tags for collars. Her hesitation summoned another cheerful sales clerk.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” Wendy said slowly. “How do I work this thing?”

The clerk showed her how to select a tag from the available options, and helped her punch in the relevant information to be carved. 

“What a unique name!” They beamed, and the machine ground and whirled.

Her eyes followed the process, tapping on the paneling in time to the gears. “It seemed appropriate.”

With a sound like a coin falling, the newly finished tag dropped from the awl through a slot. The clerk reached down to retrieve the new tag. “Oh dear,” they said, holding out the tag for her to see.

Wendy looked at the quarter sized pink heart. ‘Justa Cat’ , it said, followed by her phone number.

“I’m so sorry,” the clerk said again. “It’s really hard to see when there’s a space on the screen. I can make a new one?”

Wendy shook her head, tucking the tag into her pocket. “No, it’s fine.”  
…

The old blue scarfed woman nodded pleasantly from her perch on the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the vet’s waiting area, a dachshund wriggling in her lap. Wendy nodded back, before approaching the desk.

“Hey, I’m here to get my cat?”

The assistant smiled politely. “And your name is?”

Wendy hashed out her pertinent personal information, before being dismissed with a bright, “Dr. Dillon will be with you shortly.”

She was half way through a maze she found in the hep of decaying magazines, before being called back. The sterile exam room was just as she remembered, just without the smell of wet fur. 

The druid was inside already, consulting a clip board.

“Where’s my cat?” Wendy said, closing the door behind herself.

He looked up. “I just wanted to discuss a few things before getting him. You mentioned before that you had never had a cat, and I wanted to go over his care.”

“Hey, you can’t hold him from me!” She thrust out the receipt from the pet store. It was crumpled from being shoved into her pocket. “Look, I bought all this shit for the damn cat. Would I really be planning on eating it after spending this much?”

The druid perused the itemized list, flat expression holding four dimensions worth of increasing mirth.

“I even bought him a collar!” She whipped out the little heart tag for inspection.

This time his expression blipped at what he read. “Cute name.”

Wendy scowled to cover her twitching lips. “Shut up.”

Dr. Dillon handed back the list. “While I’m glad to see you taking the initiative in your pet’s home care, I wanted to go over his medical care with you. We didn’t get a chance to discuss it much before.”

“Admit it.” The witch stuffed her hands into her pockets. “You didn’t think I was going to come back.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t think I could have kept you away.”

She smirked. “It’s just my animal magnetism.”

His lips twitched. “In any case, I gave him his first round of vaccines and medications. We should schedule a followup appointment.”

Wendy oozed into her elbows on the exam table, coyly blinking up through dark lashes. “Why Druid Dillon, I think you’re just grasping at straws to see me again.”

He looked at her flatly overtop his clipboard. “I don’t need a cat to do that, Witch Wendy. Though, if you seem to think it necessary, you can come by next week for his last round of shots instead of flying off into the sunset on your broom.”

She rolled her eyes, and straightened up. “Wow, way to stereotype. No one’s had a broom since roombas became all the rage.”

The vet’s lips twitched again, and Wendy marked it off as her point on her mental score sheet.

“So, since we’ve already established my lack of cat care knowledge, how about I schedule an appointment to come back, and you can just bill me for the needles?”

He looked up from his clipboard. “That’s an awful lot of trust to be putting in my hands.”

She blinked purposefully. “We have to start somewhere.”

“Would you like me to go get him?”

“Sure thing Doc.”

The corners of his mouth curled as he stepped from the room, clipboard under his arm. She leaned against the metal table, checking her phone. Just as she began to wonder what became of that half finished maze she abandoned, the door clicked open to reveal the druid lugging a screaming plastic box by a handle attached to its top.

“I assumed that you didn’t have a carrier of your own, so you can purchase this one at the front desk when you pay your bill.” He said, as he set it on the table.

“It’s a tiny prison cell!” Wendy cooed, tapping the plastic sides of the cat carrier with her fingernails.

A disgruntled grumbling sounded from inside, and she peaked through the cage door’s mesh to see the tawny green eyed monster blink back up at her.

“That’s not Justa Cat!” She gasped, voiced pitched as one might talk to an easily amused baby. 

“Cat’s generally look different when not soaked to the bone and covered in dirt.” Dr. Dillon said helpfully.

The witch hummed, sticking her fingers through the mesh. The cat immediately threw itself against the digits, purring furiously as he rubbed his head against them.

“Good to know he recognizes you at least.”

The cat mewled pathetically, and chewed at her fingers. Wendy winced. “Never mind, that’s definitely him.”  
…

The sun had already set by the time she got home, allowing the orange street lamps to cast eerie fall shadows through the bare tree branches to her windows.

Cursing, the witch manhandled the cat carrier one handed through the door, while her other scrabbled for the light switch. It clicked on, just in time to allow her to see and avoid tripping over the haphazardly discarded pile of pet paraphernalia.

Justa Cat screamed as he was jostled, angrily jostling back to rock his little plastic world.

“Oh my god, shut up.” Wendy moaned trying to make her way to the kitchen table, kicking the door shut behind her. Half dropping the carrier, prompting another warbled rebuke, she pushed down on the cage door’s lock. It sprang open, disgorging a tawny hissing monster onto the placemat. 

Once free, Justa looked around the house disdainfully, blinking over the combined dining-front room, separated from the kitchen by a tiny island, and the rest of the house by a narrow staircase. Satisfied, he turned on the witch, bumping his cheek to hers.

“You are the actual worst,” she grumbled, scratching his back.

A rumble, like marbles in a tin can, erupted from his throat, and he flopped down by her forearms, wriggling so her ministrations moved to his scratch worthy tummy.

“Maybe I should have called you Brittany,” the witch mused, sitting down in one of the wooden chairs around the table. “Because you’re tawny. But you’re not British. So I guess there goes that joke.”

“I’ve never understood your sense of humor,” said a water voice from beside her elbow.

Wendy repressed a scream through sheer force of will, thus had none left over to stop her violent flinch, which nearly toppled her out of her chair.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” She swore clutching her chest. “Would it kill you to use the door?”

The small toad blinked wetly at her, eyes black and glistening. “I did. You just didn’t see me.”

A hissing growl escaped the woman’s throat as she turned on the cat. “You are useless.”

Said cat purred more deeply, content in his sprawl across the placemats.

She took a more steadying breath to calm her racing heart, and turned back to her guest. “Hi Mortimer. Why are you here.”

The toad ignored her, its beady eyed attention now on the contented cat. “Your grandmother will be ever so pleased that you’ve finally decided to make yourself a familiar. I’ve got some nice friends down below who would love a chance at a fur coat and cat snack.”

“He’s just a cat,” Wendy snapped, slamming her palm heavily on the counter, just close enough to be threatening for a normal toad. But this was not a normal toad, or a toad at all any more, really. “And he’s going to stay just a cat.”

“Whatever is the point of that?”

“I dunno, comfort, catching vermin- And I suggest you state your business before I have him practice that last one.”

The familiar bristled, air sacks in its throat fluttering as stubby legs repositioned under its body. “How rude!” It clucked. “Your sister wanted to remind you that she’ll be in town tomorrow and wants to meet up for lunch. Also, your mother wants to let you know she changed the audio site’s password, and she found a lovely new author on the philosophy of-“

“Oh my god.” Wendy rubbed the space between her brows. “Mortimer, why do you encourage her? She’s going to be back to rubbing crystals and thinking spirits are watching over us- like that doesn’t mean we need to pay attention to things ourselves. And if spirits are watching us, we have a whole lot of other problems than wondering if they’re wishing us well!”

The familiar’s body was not capable of grinning, but no toad had ever looked so very smug. “I only do as I’m told.”

“Like hell you do.” She furiously stroked the cat’s back. 

“I do!” the familiar croaked in mock offense, straightening itself to its full four inches of height. “Familiars are very loyal to our contract holders. And you would know, if you had one yourself.”

“A~nd we’re done.” The witch freed her hands from her pet’s fur. The cat opened green eyes, watching intently.

“But wait, I’m not done talking!”

“I don’t care,” Wendy said flatly. With a twist of her wrist, she pinched her middle finger and thumb together, drawing a circle through the air over the familiar with the movement. The toad’s body went rigid, its outline stretched at the edges with something bubbling and dark. Wendy flicked her wrist towards the earth, with the vigor of one snapping a wet towel. With a little beep and fart of sulfur, the familiar vanished.

She waved her hand in front of her wrinkling nose. “Ugh, I gotta crack a window.” She glared at Justa, who had resumed his lax posture, now that the hopping entertainment had left. “You better not be one of those cats that claws through screens, because if you run away, I am not chasing you!”

The cat simply purred.  
…

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This was my nanowrimo 2016 entry. I'm thinking about publishing it, so let me know how you like the concept idea in the excerpt.


End file.
